Maybe, Someday Soon
by digitalprints
Summary: Gabriella Montez has always held the belief that love never changes. People change. Circumstances change. But love – it's the only thing that she's always known to be constant, unyielding and steadfast. She just wished it was actually true for herself. TG
1. Maybe

_Synopsis_: Gabriella Montez has always held the belief that love never changes. People change. Circumstances change. But love – it's the only thing that she's always known to be constant, unyielding and steadfast.

_AN:_ This, like the recently posted _Barely Breathing_, was started several years ago. Real life always intruded and therefore, like BB, was put in the back burner and it was not until the auction in _wildcatsgivebac _over in LJ that eventually prompted me to finish this. Also, this is very much straight up AU, although there are some subtle hints or aspects of the HSM universe that are used.

This may get confusing (when are my stories not confusing?) since I've intermixed flashbacks and present scenes – maybe even flash forwards. Italics will indicate a shift a timeline, most likely in the past. I know, I know. I'm just hoping that I leave enough clues – and actually write them well, that you'll figure out if it is in the past or in the future. So as always, apologies in advance if I confuse you – and I most likely will. I'm trying to use the conventional narrative but alas, this just seems more fun (for me).

**Lastly, a big thank you to Holden for 'buying' this story. **I hope you like it and sorry for the delay. Spotty internet, midterms and Coachella (sadly, no sighting of Vanessa) happened. Also, once I started writing this, the whole plan for it totally changed so essentially, it's a new story than what was planned before. Updates should be every two weeks.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes or changes in tenses.

Enjoy.

_Disclaimer: _I own nothing.

* * *

><p><em>She let out a giggle the moment the driver closed the door. Ensconced in their limo, she couldn't help but laugh. She was married. Married. Just the mere word made her feel so giddy, so utterly and explicably happy. <em>

"_What are you so happy about?" he asked._

_Glancing at her husband, her smile just widened and she shook her head. Her husband. He sat at the adjacent seat, shifting earnestly while he tugged his tie every now and then. Dressed in a tux, he looked impeccable. Scratch that – he looked flawless, that to her, it seemed so surreal that she's married to __him__. His hair was gelled back in a very James Dean-esque hairstyle. He looked so dapper in his suit that she couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. She motioned for him to come closer. And when he was near enough, she pulled at the lapels of his jacket and fixed the bothersome tie. He sent her a grateful smile._

"_We're married." She suddenly announced. _

"_Oh, so that's what the ceremony was about?" _

_She rolled her eyes. "We're actually married. As in truly married. Husband and wife. Ol' ball and chain…"_

_It was his turn to roll his eyes. "You make it sound so pleasant. Freaking ball and chain, really?"_

"_You know what I mean." She says as she leaned down to give him a peck. _

"_Ball and chain, huh? So that means we're bound to each other. As I am to you?" His voice was deep and low. _

_Her lips curved. "As you are to me." _

_He glanced at her, met her hazel brown eyes. A long moment passed between, absorbing the gravity of their words. She sensed him draw near, not long after, his arms came around her, surprising her as she was lifted and placed on his lap, uncaring of the tulle and silk of her wedding dress and veil. _

_Then he spoke. "You are the only woman in the entire world that I would gladly – willingly, be chained to." He then took her left hand, softy tracing the rings nestled in her finger and raised them to his lips, giving her delicate fingers a soft kiss. "Nothing – and I mean nothing will ever tear us apart. Forever and always, that's my promise."_

_She shook her head, her smile deepening as she remembered him uttering those very same words during the ceremony. She smiled gloriously, and twined her arms around his neck. "Forever and always," she softly whispered, before her lips met his in a gentle kiss. But as always, as she arched her body and touched his, the kiss grew fervent, passionate. _

_It was a long time before they left the limousine and met their guests at the reception. And when they did make it out of the car and into the hotel ballroom where their family and friends gathered, hands tangled together, her cheeks flushed and his smile feral, it did not take much for the guests to figure out what the newlyweds were doing._

_Overhead, the MC announced as he spotted them at the entrance, "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time in public as man and wife, Gabriella Elizabeth and Troy Zachary Bolton…"_

~.~.~

**Maybe, Someday Soon**

**~.~.~**

She tugged the television remote from between the champagne-colored sofa cushions. The quiet inside the house – a small two bedroom Spanish-style villa in the outskirts of San Francisco, seemed to echo against her eardrums. Turning, she stared at the television and contemplated turning it on just to chase the silence away.

It had been a long time since she found herself alone in the house. As a resident physician going on her third year, her time never really was her own, especially now that she had started her fellowship at UCSF in pediatrics. She could easily describe her life as of late as a series of 36-hour work shifts separated by a much needed 12-hour rest, which she just usually spent sleeping in one of the many rooms in the hospital. For two months straight, she hadn't had a second to call her own. Today was the first time, in a very long while, that she actually left the hospital to relax in her own house. She thought of taking advantage of her downtime by reading a book or maybe a long and much needed soak in her bathtub, but as she stood there, in the middle of her living room, she couldn't help but feel lost. Claustrophobic, as if all this empty space was slowly stifling her. It was then she remembered that she hated those days that she got the day off. She never knew what to do with her time. Never knew how to occupy herself.

The quiet steadily hummed.

Placing the remote on the coffee table, she turned to the entertainment center and turned the stereo on. She cranked up the volume, hoping the sweet melodies could slowly erase the overwhelming feeling of panic that has settled in her. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the song playing. Her hand automatically reached for her necklace, about to squeeze the ring that hung on the simple silver chain when she remembered that she finally took it out and kept it hidden in her jewelry box, underneath all her earrings and bracelets.

'_I need to be bold__  
><em>_Need to jump in the cold water__  
><em>_Need to grow older with a girl like you'_

She was sixteen then, sitting outside her balcony on a warm July night, reading when the first strings of this song drifted. She placed her book down and leaned against the railing, smiling when she saw him, standing there with Ryan playing the guitar and Kelsi in her portable piano. She had always known he could sing but she's never had the pleasure of hearing him sing in person.

'_Yeah, I'd rather be with you__  
><em>_Say you want the same thing too__  
><em>_Say you feel the way I do'_

She couldn't remember the feeling he gave her as he stood there singing. She must have been overjoyed. Ecstatic that East High's most popular boy was outside serenading. All she remembered of that night was, at that time, it was the most valuable feeling in the world. She debated switching radio stations, but stopped herself the last minute. It's been three long years. She was surely over him by now.

Maybe a long soak in the tub was in her order, she said to herself. Continuing in her bedroom, she willed herself to forget as more images flashed through her mind. Now, it was of two teenagers, older, sitting on the hammock in her mother's backyard, discussing their future and what they were going to do for college if they ended up in different coasts. He made her a promise then.

"_If I could stay in one moment forever,"_ she remembered him saying to her, _"it would be that night on the rooftop, while we danced and kissed at prom, and for the first time, you actually cursed at Chad for hollering. That is how I know you're it."_

A younger version of her smiled. _"You know I'm the one because I told Chad to shut it?"_

His eighteen year old self pushed a strand of her hair out of her face. He smirked. _"No. I knew you were the one, because at that moment, I realized that I was ready for you to be my last – and my only."_

She snapped back to reality by the ringing of her home phone. She sighed, and shook her head. It was in the past. Long forgotten. She grimaced at that thought. Okay, definitely not forgotten, she admonished herself. But she was trying.

She grabbed the phone and pressed the TALK button.

"Hello," she said, trying to sound upbeat.

The cheerful voice of her friend greeted her. "I'm bored out of my mind. This is why I hate getting days off. I'd prefer to be working non-stop at the hospital rather than sitting at home doing absolutely nothing. Please tell me I can come crash at your place this afternoon. We can be two miserable souls being miserable together."

She smiled, "Breathe, Tay."

In the background, Robert Downey Jr. belted out the lyrics to 'Broken'.

'_In love with a broken heart_

_You feel in love with a broken heart'_

Gabriella gripped the phone tighter, hoping to stop the memories of the two of them. She closed her eyes and breathed. "Come over, Tay. Let's be miserable together."

**~.~.~**

_When you thought I wasn't looking, I was._

"Gabriella?" Taylor McKessie called out as she rummaged through with box she found, tracing the words on the note she just found. "Gabs?"

"Yeah, what's up, Ta -" Gabriella halted upon seeing her friend holding the timeworn box. She took a deep breath, "Where'd you find that?"

Taylor looked up. "It was under the bed. My lipstick rolled down underneath and while I was grabbing it, I stumbled upon this."

"I totally forgot it was there."

"Ex-boyfriend box?"

"Husband," she found herself saying. It had been years – three, to be exact, since she had looked at the box. It wasn't anything ornate. Just a small brown box. Simple. It wasn't anything special, Gabriella said to herself as she eyed the contents. Nothing special.

"I didn't know you were married," Taylor softly said, wary of friend. She had met Gabriella three years prior. They were both first year interns then at University of California San Francisco Medical Center. She was running late, running through the hospital hobby unaware of her surroundings. It was not until she bumped into someone – Gabriella, that she realized how careless she was. Or stupid. Had it been anyone else, a resident or a patient, she would have definitely been kicked out of the program. Thankful, Gabriella had been nice about it, helping her up and they were best friends ever since. It wasn't hard seeing as they spend practically every waking moment in the hospital, running haggard and just trying to keep up with the hard, long hours. It was during those long hours were the two of them bonded, talking about their lives, their dreams and wants as they waited for their pagers to go off, and their next shift would begin again. Not once, in the three years they've know each other, did Gabriella mention a husband.

"We were high school sweethearts," Taylor heard her quietly say. "Got married during our senior year, right around the time I was sending out my applications to medical school. It was the most hectic and insane year of my life."

Gabriella reached up and tried to bat discreetly at her eyes, willing the tears to go away. "But it was the most amazing year too."

At seeing her tears, Taylor said quietly, "Hey, don't cry. I can put this back and we can totally forget about this."

She smiled, and shook her head. "It's fine." She drew a deep shuddering breath, "I hadn't thought of him in days. And that box, I totally forgot about that box. It's full of post-its. He had this thing of writing notes. Mostly stupid things. Reminding me to buy him something from the grocery store. Then there are others…."

She ducked her head in embarrassment, hating herself for feeling this way. It has been three years. Three long years of no contact. She should have moved on by now. Gabriella continued, "He would leave them everywhere. Some were easily found. Taped to the fridge. Or the bathroom mirror. Others were more hidden, taking me days – even weeks, to find."

"Do you mind?" Taylor asked, holding up one of the post-its. _Remember when you pretended you couldn't swim just so I could hold you?_

She smiled. Or at least tried to. "No, go for it," she found herself saying, watching as her friend carefully delved into the contents of the box, digging deeper.

"That's kind of sweet," Taylor said as she read one of the post-its she found amusing. _I love you so much its stupid._

Gabriella laughed – albeit dolefully, "I found that taped to the television screen. The night before we were watching a comedy, I forget what it was."

_I liked it when you made me late for work today._

Taylor laughed at that. And laughed even more when she saw the blush staining her friend's cheeks.

"That wasn't the only one," Gabriella revealed, surprising both herself and Taylor by her candidness. Her statement was further echoed by the next few notes Taylor read.

…_you naughty minx you._

_I did some of my best work last night *wink wink*_

"This is definitely getting juicy," Taylor said, clearly amused. She picked up the next one in the pile and blushed herself before handing it over to Gabriella.

_Do you remember? It was the best night of my life. Hands down. _

Gabriella couldn't help but genuinely smile at that. And she did remember, vividly as if it was yesterday that night he was referring to. She could still remember that kiss and the promise that lay within it – the promise of forever, as he knelt in one knee and proposed. She broke out of her musings when she heard a gasp.

Looking up, Taylor gaped and stared at the last note in the box. "He proposed with a post-it?"

Her lips twitched. "Yeah. It was actually very sweet. Very Troy."

"Troy?" she asked. "That was his name?"

Gabriella nodded. Her chest suddenly felt tight as she saw the questions in her friend's eye. It was difficult to breathe, difficult for her to explain her story. "Troy Bolton. We both went to school here, he in Berkeley and me, you obviously know in Stanford. We built a life here in San Francisco. We were married for close to two years before it…," she gulped, "before it all broke down. He lives in Albuquerque now."

Placing the post-it inside the box, Gabriella continued, "Right after he left, I was going to throw all the boxes out," she shrugged, looking helpless and at that moment, Taylor realized she really did not know much about her friend, "but I couldn't bring myself to throw them in the trash." She stood up and with such intensity, stared at Taylor. "My life was in those post-its. No matter how painful it was, how messy it ended, he was a huge part of my life."

With barely a nod to her friend, Gabriella walked past, exiting the bedroom and leaving Taylor, alone with the box full of memories she was never privy and alone with her conflicting thoughts.

Off to the side of the bed, laid a single post-it, forgotten.

_Forever and always. That's my promise._

~.~.~

_Gabriella was running late. _

_It was supposed to be their anniversary dinner tonight. Late anniversary dinner. The actual date had already passed. With their hectic and often conflicting schedule, they could not properly celebrate their anniversary on the day of. They made plans. Said plans got cancelled when she got called in for an extra shift at the hospital. They rescheduled. Only to have to reschedule again when Troy, at the last minute, had to stay late to iron out the remaining details of the merger he was working on. _

_But tonight was supposed to be their night. The one night, in all of this month, that they were luckily both free. But a patient of hers coded and the next thing she knew, an hour had passed by. It took another hour to get home because of some accident on the freeway. By the time she got home, fumbling with her house keys and running up the stairs to their apartment, she was already almost three hours late for the dinner he had cooked himself. _

"_I'm so, so sorry. My phone died and a patient of mine was rushed into surgery," she began immediately explaining upon opening the front door. "I'm so sor -"_

_She halted and looked around the apartment. _

_Post-its. Hundreds – maybe, even thousands, of post-its._

_Every space and corner of their living room wall and even their dining room, were covered with post-its. Every single one of a different pastel shade. _

"_I called the hospital when I realized you were running late," a voice to her right said. She turned around, seeing Troy standing by the fireplace. "So I knew about your patient. And while I waited, I saw about the accident at the freeway on the news, so I knew you were going to be even more late."_

_Momentarily forgetting about the post-its (and its purpose), she grimaced. "I know this was supposed to be our anniversary dinner so I'm really, really sorry for being so late."_

_He smiled. "It's fine. It gave me the time to do all this," he answered with a hand waving to the post-it covered walls._

_Gabriella shifted her gaze away from Troy and started looking closely at what was written in the post-its, walking around the living room. Her brows furrowed when she realized that all weren't written in English. _

'Veux-tum'épouser?_' one post-it said. _

_She stepped around him, trying to find a post-it she could actually understand. '_Mivuoi sposarmi?_', another post-it held. She knew those words were in Italian, and she cursed herself for not immediately remembering what it meant. _

_A few moments later, her eyes widened, returning to face him again, her gaze straying once more to the post-it. _

_Troy knew the moment she realized what the post-it meant. He shifted closer to her, smiled as she inched closer too. Reaching up, he slid her fingers into her hair and watched as her eyes closed at the caress. She opened her eyes and fell into his lucent blue eyes. _

"_So?" he prompted. _

_Deciding to play coy, she responded in kind and tried to hold back on the giddiness she felt. "So?"_

_His brow rose. "Do I get an answer?"_

"_To what?" Gabriella playfully replied. "Technically, you haven't asked me anything."_

_Troy smiled, blue eyes wide in mischief and he decided to play along. "All right, I think we should get married," he announced with a smirk. _

"_That was a statement," she said, beaming. "I still haven't heard the question."_

_Tugging her closer until no space separated their bodies, he murmured. "Okay, here's a question for you." He paused, and Gabriella's breath hitched as she waited. A long moment passed. In the back of her head, she wondered if he was purposely tormenting her as the seconds ticked by and he still didn't utter a word. Gently stroking her lower lip, he finally asked, "Do you, Gabriella Elizabeth Montez, agree… with the statement or not?"_

_Her grin transformed into giggle. It was so like him to do that, and he wouldn't be the man she fell in love with if he did not constantly kept her guessing, kept her on her toes. Her hands touched his cheeks, framing his face as she held it steady. "Yes," as her lips neared her, she then whispered reverently once her giggles died down. "Of course I'll marry you." _

_At her answer, his lips closed over hers, firm, knowing, ardent. His hands locked about her waist, drawing her closer and closer. _

_And then she was tumbling, falling…._

_She wanted more. More of him. More of his touch. More of his kisses. Her skin was heated and her breathing grew fractured with every touch he made, his grip tightening as she held onto him. _

_He broke the kiss, only to ask her again if she was sure. She smiled, before tackling him and landing them both into the couch cushions. Her lids fluttered, her long wavy hair creating a curtain of sorts that shielded their faces against the rest of the world. In that moment, it was just him and her, basking in the moment. He drew back so he could touch her cheek, watched as pure and unbridled passion flashed across her hazel eyes. _

"_Forever and always," he murmured, repeating the words he wrote in one of the post-its taped to the Tiffany's box. "That's my promise." _

_Gabriella caught her breath, enchanted by his promise, the vision of a life together Troy weaved in her mind with his words. "I'll marry you a thousand times over, if you wished."_

_He looked down, trailing his fingertips from her lips, down her throat, over her collarbone and gently, to the skin just above her shirt's neckline. She followed the trail of his hand, her breath hitching as she felt his touch at the tip of her breast as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse. "Once is more than enough," he said before capturing her lips again. Gabriella's hands moved up to his hair to clutch him to her, a small sob escaping as the full gravity of the situation hit her, euphoria at his proposal crashing through her all at once. _

_Without a word, Troy lifter her in his arms, striding towards their bedroom, his lips still locked to hers. _

_They passed by the fireplace mantle, a jewelry box sat atop the mahogany, a single post-it taped to it, and this time the words written were in English. _

Marry me?

~.~.~

'When we were young I really believed  
>Love would never leave us<br>But time has a knack of pulling the rug out  
>From underneath us'<p>

_Your Love_, Keane

* * *

><p>This is very much a TG story. So don't fret. And Troy makes his appearance next chapter.<p>

Yes, I realize that the wedding scene appeared before the proposal but I thought it flowed better with the events happening in present time. As for the proposal, funny enough, it was actually a scene in _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_ that inspired that little banter between the two. I actually really, really enjoyed writing that proposal scene.

I hope you enjoyed this, especially Holden since this is written for you, haha.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Playlist**: Essentially a mishmash of songs that I've listened to while writing this. Some totally relate to the story. Others, not so much. But the general feeling of the songs totally lent itself to the writing process of this short story. I've provided a link to the playlist. It has the majority of the songs, except for two or three songs that I couldn't find.

Link: playlist .com/playlist/21667154699

**I'd Rather Be With You, Joshua Radin**

_I need to be bold__  
><em>_Need to jump in the cold water__  
><em>_Need to grow older with a girl like you_

**Paperweight, Joshua Radin**

_Been up all night__  
><em>_Staring at you__  
><em>_Wondering what's on your mind_

**Girls, Broken Dreams Club**

_I know you feel like I do too_

_And even though I'm close to you_

_I can't be what you need_

_Because you're just as lost as me_

**Run, Leona Lewis**

_Have heart my dear__  
><em>_We're bound to be afraid__  
><em>_Even if it's just for a few days__  
><em>_Making up for all this mess_

**Where is My Mind, Yoav feat Emily Browning**

_Your head will collapse__  
><em>_But there's nothing in it__  
><em>_And you'll ask yourself__  
><em>_Where is my mind_

**Trust Me, The Fray**

_Looking for something I've never seen__  
><em>_Alone and I'm in between__  
><em>_The place that I'm from and the place that I'm in_

**Will You Be There, Richard Harris**

_When I'm scared and tired__  
><em>_Will you breathe in some life__  
><em>_If this world breaks me__  
><em>_Would you make me whole again please_

**Someone Like You, Adele**

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited.__  
><em>_But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.__  
><em>_I'd hoped you'd see my face & that you'd be reminded,__  
><em>_That for me, it isn't over._

**Broken, Robert Downey Jr.**

_In love with a broken heart__  
><em>_You fell in love with a broken heart_

**Ships, Umbrellas**

_Just like ships, we float through each other's lives__  
><em>_Through the waters of beauty and grace__  
><em>_We will one day dock at the same port__  
><em>_**  
><strong>_**Save You, Matthew Perryman Jones**

_I'm looking back again__  
><em>_Tracing back the threads__  
><em>_You said it was a mess__  
><em>_Or was it just in my head?_

**Asleep, The Smiths**

_There is another world__  
><em>_There is a better world__  
><em>_Well, there must be_

**Last Request, Paolo Nutini**

_Oh, I've found, that I'm bound__  
><em>_To wander down that one way road.__  
><em>_And I realise all about your lies__  
><em>_But I'm no wiser than the fool I was before._

**Please Don't Go, Barcelona**

_Oh, please don't go__  
><em>_I want you so__  
><em>_I can't let go__  
><em>_For I lose control_

**England, The National**

_Put an ocean and a river__  
><em>_Between everybody else,__  
><em>_Between everything, yourself, and home_

**Still, Matt Nathanson**

_I remember honey lips and words so true__  
><em>_I remember nonstop earthquake dreams of you__  
><em>_You're coming on fast like good dreams do__  
><em>_All night long_

**Come On Get Higher, Matt Nathanson**

_I miss the sound of your voice__  
><em>_And I miss the rush of your skin__  
><em>_And I miss the still of the silence__  
><em>_As you breathe out and I breathe in_

**All Will Be, Leona Lewis**

_I know I let you down__  
><em>_But it's not like that now__  
><em>_This time I'll never let you go__  
><em>

**A Thousand Lights, Leona Lewis**

_There's a line, there's a road that we're walking__  
><em>_Different path to the point where they're crossing__  
><em>_But each step is one step closer to you_

**Don't Let Me Fall, Lenka**

_You're just the one that I've been waiting for__  
><em>_I'll give you all that I have to give and more__  
><em>_But don't let me fall, don't let me fall__  
><em>

**Falling Slowly, Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova**

_Take this sinking boat and point it home__  
><em>_We've still got time__  
><em>_Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice__  
><em>_You've made it now_

**A Little Too Much, Natasha Bedingfield**

_Everybody hurts just a little too much__  
><em>_Everybody hurts but it's never enough__  
><em>_It's wonderful to fall__  
><em>_It's worth of risking all__  
><em>_I'd rather love just a little too much_


	2. Someday

_AN:_ Only one more chapter to go. I hope the reason for their break-up isn't _that _predictable to you guys.

Italics indicate that the scenes are a flashback.

To blacksumo, Kaden-san, Unproper Grammar, kristenkay0606, SCrosby87, dancedivaw1309 & kaybaby1127, sxcthing123, Arlyn, thanks for the feedback/reviews.

**Lastly, a big thank you to Holden for 'buying' this story. **I hope you are enjoying this and you have no idea how happy it made me when you said that you're a fan of post-its! That wasn't even the plan when I first started writing this but next thing you know, post-its just became this driving force to get the story going.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes or changes in tenses.

Enjoy.

_Disclaimer: _I own nothing.

* * *

><p><em>Troy Bolton ran a thumb up the bridge of his nose in hopes of stopping the throbbing spot slowly building between his brows. He was getting a headache and it wasn't even noon yet. <em>

_Worry joined in on the growing headache as he studied his wife's delicate features. Smudges of exhaustion underscored her eyes. Her usually kept appearance was now replaced by messy hair and no make-up. He could tell she'd lost weight too. _

_He'd gotten a call from his mother that Gabriella had fainted while she was having lunch with her daughter-in-law. He immediately rushed home and assured his mother that everything was going to be okay. If only that was the case, he thought to himself. After his mother left, he tried to make Gabriella eat. But she refused and only moved away from him. She now sat on the chaise, stoic and seemingly ignoring him. _

"_You have to eat, Gabi," he said, placing the bowl on top of the side table closest to her. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."_

_She didn't even move an inch, didn't even acknowledge his request. _

_It had been three months since it happened. _

_They've often said that the road to recovery was a long and slow process. Baby steps, as his father often said. Take it day by day. But with Gabriella, there was no progress. Hell, she didn't even talk to him anymore. _

_The longer she was silent, the stronger the desperation grew within him. Each day, the distance grew between them. He tried to control it, that undeniable anger slowly building inside of him. When he tried to comfort her, she pushed him away. When he tried to talk to her, she shut him down. And as he watched her wrap her arms around herself – as if he would lash out and hurt her, he soon realized that it was a losing battle from the moment they left the doctor's office._

_He tried to reach for her, time and time again, only to be rebuffed. The more he tried to bridge the distance between them, the stronger she pulled away. _

_It was the cringe, the closing of her eyes as if she's in pain, and physically moving away from him that did it. And when he said he loved her and silence was her only response - that was when he finally walked out the door. _

_When she didn't even look back, when she didn't ask him to stay, he started running. _

~.~.~

**Maybe, Someday Soon**

~.~.~

Fiddling with her keys, Gabriella pushed her down open, dragging her feet inside the house. It had been a long sixteen-hour shift and she was dead tired. It was these like days where she questioned her choice of keeping a house that was an hour ride – with traffic, away from her job. Placing her keys and bag in the foyer table, she groaned in disbelief at the sight that met her eyes.

The various medical journals and magazine that was left strewn about atop her coffee table were organized in a pile. Her blanket, the one she left haphazardly over her chaise was now straightened. It was the small things really. Things that wouldn't have caught her eye unless one was very much attuned to their husband's habits.

She groaned when she passed by the family room. Her newly washed clothes that were left in the basket from the night before were now neatly folded. And even without going into the kitchen, she knew, without a doubt, that the dirty dishes she had left unwashed from the past couple of days were now in the dishwasher, all clean and shiny.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling the headache beginning to come on. She had only barely moved on after her old memories resurfaced when Taylor found the box. And now, he's evidently back.

Gabriella had a very bad feeling about this. Three years of no contact. Three years of not hearing from him and now, out of the blue, he was here. In her, no – their, home. He was still part-owner. She wondered why he was here. Last she heard, he was living happily in Albuquerque and dating, at least that's what she had heard from Chad. She would hear from his parents every now and then. It was more frequent shortly after he left. But after awhile, communication with the Bolton's slowly dwindled. Not that she could blame them. Troy was their son. And what she did – whatever happened between them put Jack and Linda Bolton in a very precarious position.

_Why are you crying? _A sixteen-year old Troy asked.

Gabriella tried to push away the unsettling feeling in her stomach. Tried to block the memories that now assailed her.

She remembered replying as she brushed the tears away. _Because I finally decided that I can't keep waiting for a train that's never coming. And now you're here. _

Troy Bolton had been East High's most popular – the king, if you will. He ruled on and off the basketball court. East High adored him. Why wouldn't they? He was charming. Engaging. Friendly. A people-person, her now-deceased mother had then described him. It was a surprise for her – and the rest of the East High masses, when _the _Troy Bolton finally made a move on the geeky Gabriella Montez.

She was fourteen when she first met him. They became fast friends – as close as they could get given the social circles they ran in. She never really thought that he would ever be interested in her. He had every girl throwing themselves at him – more so, as they got older. So, two years after just being friends, the fact that the serenaded her and asked her – _her, _the Einstenette, was a shock and at that moment, a dream come true.

She could still remember the feel of his hands as caught her hand and gently caressed her face with the other. His gaze rested on her and he moved closer, saying, _This train just took a detour and got lost somewhere. But all that matters is now. I really, really, really like you Gabriella. And I guess what I'm trying to say is, did I miss my shot? _

Gabriella hated that memory of all the ones in their teenage years. She hated reliving it, not because it was traumatic – far from it, even, but because it was the start of it all. She wasn't lying when she told Troy then that she wasn't looking for a boyfriend.

She recalled that cocky smirk he gave her. _Always two steps ahead, aren't Montez? I just professed my undying like for you and you're already talking about love? _He suddenly got serious. _Good thing I'm already half in love with you, Montez. I'm in this for forever._

Too bad forever only meant ten years, Gabriella said to herself. She sighed and decided to forget about Troy for the time being. She had other, more important things to worry about. Whatever Troy came for, she'll just deal with. Like she's been dealing with the deterioration of their marriage ever since he left her.

Lifting the hatch to the patio, she pushed the French doors open to let some air in. She grabbed some of her gardening supplies underneath the kitchen sink and let out a small smile at the sight of her now clean sink. She walked past the counter and then suddenly halted.

Gabriella backtracked into the kitchen, staring at the object laying innocently on top of the kitchen counter.

A post-it.

_Sign me. _

Underneath the post-it were the words she should have seen coming. She didn't realize that she had dropped her supplies until she heard the bang when the metal hit her marble floor. She didn't realize that she had started crying until droplets of her tears fell into the brightly-colored sticky note.

~.~.~

"So, how'd it go?" were the first words out of Chad Danforth's mouth as he answered his phone.

Troy tried to mask the despair he felt when he answered back. "Fine."

"...which means you're not," was his best friend's immediate reply. "You didn't have to go there yourself, you know? You could have let someone else handle it. Your parents are worried."

"I know," he said, sighing, "But I _needed_ to do this. It's the only way I could move on."

It was Chad's turn to sigh. "It's your life, dude. So, did you see her?"

"No, just left a note at the house."

"So, what now? You're staying until you finally see her face to face? Not the best idea, dude. After the last -"

"Chad!"

His best friend paused mid-rant, and sounding very repentant when he apologized.

"I don't know what I'm going to do okay?" Troy said, more forceful, as he sat down on the sofa. Pressing his fingers on his temple, he allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath before answering Chad's questions about Gabriella.

_Gabriella_.

His heart ached just thinking about her. One would think that after three years, he would have moved on by now. He told his friends that he had. He constantly lied to his parents that he's fine – that what happened with Gabriella was all in the past. And he'd like to think that for the most part, it was all in the past. He can pass by her old house in Albuquerque without flinching or reminiscing about their teenage years. He can hear _their _song playing in the radio without pining for her. Most of the time, he couldn't remember her at all. He couldn't recall her laugh. Or her scent. Or how her eyes twinkled when she's planning something. But there were times, he would admit – only to himself, that it all comes back to him at once and he remembered everything. Every single detail of their life together.

He was only thirteen when he first thought that Gabriella was pretty. She was his first crush. And last, his friends would always argue later on. The people he hung out with, especially Chad, never understand his fascination over Gabriella. They said she was too geeky. Too into school. Too much of a dork. At thirteen, he didn't know how to approach her. Not when it also meant that his friends would make fun of him. Because they were in different worlds, he never had an excuse to actually talk to her, which is why he was so happy when they got paired together for a science project when they were fourteen. It took him another two years before he could actually make a move. By then, he didn't care that his friends thought of her as a brainiac and hers thought of him as a dumb jock. All that mattered was her – and that she actually liked him back.

_Maybe we shouldn't be together;_ he recalled her telling a sixteen-year old version of him. _You deserve something who isn't a geek._

He remembered how he reacted at her suggestion. Hurt. Disappointment. But most of all anger. Not at her. But at shallow friends for making Gabriella doubt their relationship. At that time, they've only been dating for a few weeks. The first time they walked the halls of East High holding hands, the whole school was in an uproar. Some were totally for it. Others thought that he was breaking status quo too much.

_They tell me I deserve the best_, he responded as he took her in his arms, _I think I deserve who I want, and who I want is you, Gabriella. Geek or not, I want you. They're just jealous that I got the smartest and prettiest girl in East High. _

And she's all he had ever wanted. Needed. Even after all these years, she was still the one for him. But sometimes, love can only get you so far, he thought to himself as he recalled the reason for his visit to San Francisco.

"…dude, you still there?" Chad asked when silence was the only thing that answered all his inquiries. "Troy?"

Shaking his head, Troy answered back, apologizing for zoning out.

"I knew going back there by yourself was a mistake. We all told you."

"I'm fine, Chad." But his tone of voice said otherwise.

"You said that. Too bad it's all bullshit. You're still not over her?" It was a question they both knew the answer to. "And don't lie to me," Chad added.

"I wasn't going to," Troy replied. "She's just…"

"…Gabriella." Chad finished, saying her name as if that alone explained it.

"And I thought I'd seriously be over her by now. It has been three long years of no contact. But Gabriella's just…"

"…different."

"I really wish I could move on already. But I…"

"…still love her."

"Yeah," Troy said dejectedly, "I still do."

Chad exhaled before saying, "Then I think bringing her divorce papers is the wrong way to go about this."

Troy furrowed his brows. "What?"

"Like you said, it's been three years and you're still not over her. I may not be the girl's biggest fan right now but I've been there since the beginning, Troy. I was there when you were courting her. I helped you plan the proposal. You guys just match, you know. And shit did happen between the two of you but you can't deny true love. You guys have been apart for far too long. You've both run away from your problems. Maybe it's time to finally face them."

Troy smiled. "When did you get so smart and sentimental?"

"Suck it, dude. Just go and get your girl because seriously, these past three years, you've just been a mess without her. You've just been moping and shit."

Troy let out a genuine laugh. The first in a very long time.

~.~.~

A movement from the chaise, the one closest to the patio doors, was the first thing that broke through Gabriella's haze as she entered her house. She froze, her hazel brown eyes pinned to the figure sitting calmly and when he waved hello, she forgot how to breathe.

They stared at each other for a moment, taking it all in. She noticed that his hair was slight longer. His built was bigger, more toned. He was more of a man – more aged, than she remembered. Three longs years does that to you, her mind said.

"I guess you still have the house keys." She said, breaking in the silence. Her voice sounded strange to her, as if she hadn't used it before.

Something in her voice made Troy defensive. "It's still my house too, isn't it?"

His eyes roamed across the living room, avoiding her gaze. His expression was guarded and Gabriella could tell from his jaw that he was tense.

"How are you?" He asked, politely.

"I'm good," she answered civilly.

"Good," he repeated.

Silence.

"You?" She asked, asking _anything_ just to make the silence go away.

He looked at her then. "Fine."

More silence enveloped the room.

"I saw the divorce papers," she managed to choke out. Gabriella steeled herself for his response.

"Okay."

Gabriella stared down at her lap, not knowing what else to say. She could feel him watching her and she prayed for the strength to get through this in one piece. She wasn't ready, she kept telling herself. She wasn't ready to see him in person. She wasn't ready to face him yet. She thought that she'll never be ready. Not when it concerns him.

She took a deep breathe, planning on rationally and calming initiating a discussion over the divorce proceedings. He was obviously ready to get on with his life and finally be legally free of her. Signing the papers was the least she could do. She told herself that there was no use dwelling over the past. Whatever happened, happened. It was done, she repeated to herself a few times as she finally looked back up at him.

She stared at him, and stared. Her face was blank, her features expressionless – a mirror image of his own expression, she was sure. Talk about the future, Gabriella thought to herself. We're both moving on.

"You left me."

It took her a second to realize that the words – the accusation, actually came out of her lips. Apparently, her mouth worked on a different wavelength as her brain.

Even from the distance, she saw the blood drain from his face. He stood, hands balled into fists, every muscle in his body taut with tension. His blue eyes, normally lucent and bright, were flashing with rage.

"I left?" He practically shouted. "I'm sick to death of hearing it from everyone. Especially you. I've had enough."

It only took him a few strides before he was standing in front of her. "Yes, I was the one who walked out. I fucking left you. But you," he continued, leveling a finger at her, "were the one how drove me to it. Every single damn day and night, it was the same. Complete silence from you. It was like I was constantly talking to a wall. You couldn't even look at me. And whenever I tried to get close to you, to comfort you and just hold you, you cringed every single damn time. What was I supposed to do?"

Hurt and indignation pushed into her throat. "I was hurting."

"And you thought I wasn't?" He bit out, his voice clipped and pissed. Troy breathed in, willing the anger to go away. He thought he was over it. He thought he had already moved on.

"Fuck this," he said after he regained his composure. "Just sign the divorce papers and I'll go back to Albuquerque and you can live your happily ever."

He grabbed his bag and strode to the front door. He opened it, took a step out but before he fully left, he turned, eyes filled with pain. "You weren't the only one who was hurting. He was my son too."

The moment he shut the door gently behind him with a sound click, something tore inside her. Her cool and calm façade immediately vanished. Leaning against the wall, Gabriella Montez began to cry.

~.~.~

"_Mrs. Bolton," he paused, obvious difficulty in his voice, "I, uh, I'm so sorry."_

_She pushed a strand of chestnut hair from her eyes. She was shaking so hard that strands fell back in her face the moment she withdrew her hand. "I… I don't understand."_

_His voice turned gravelly. "Its -"_

"_I don't understand. What do you mean?" she asked, interrupting him._

"_Gabriella…"_

"_What do you mean?" She asked again, her voice rising – more hysterical. "There was a heartbeat. Two weeks ago, with my last check up, there - there was a heartbeat. I heard it. I have a recording of it, back at the house. There was a heartbeat. "_

"_Gabriella, you need to calm down," he said softly. _

"_Where's my baby?" Panic clawed the back of her mind. And she tried to remember how to breathe. _

"_There's no heartbeat, Gabriella." He shuffled some documents – sonograms of her child, and looked at her with kindness in his eyes, sympathy. "And from what I can see, your baby has stopped growing at eleven weeks."_

"_I don' understand," she began, shaking her head. Her grip on her stomach tightened. "I don't… there was a heartbeat. My baby..." Tears now flowed freely down her cheeks. Her throat felt raw and her voice was raspy when she continued, "There was a heartbeat."_

"_Mrs. Bolton, you need to breathe." _

_He's not dead, a tiny disbelieving voice spoke up inside her. Her baby was alive. He was just asleep. Dimly, she realized that Dr. Johnson was still talking, explaining. She could see his mouth moving, but she couldn't hear the words. _

_She felt numb. _

_Every day we wake up and we think that everything's the same. That nothing ever changed. And if it did, there will be that __one __moment - a feeling, a shift in the wind or something that warned us of our impending doom. She did not have that. She felt nothing. Maybe that was her sign. _

_He was only eleven weeks old. Eight more days and they would have announced their pregnancy to the world. _

_He was only eleven weeks. The baby books she had read said that at this stage, her baby's organs have nearly formed. His tiny fingers and toes would have already separated. He was beginning to take shape. They even heard his heartbeat. And now… now, he's dead._

_Imagine waking up one day to find that someone you know or someone close to you - someone you love suddenly died. You start shaking him or her. Willing them to wake up. But the life has gone out of their bodies. _

_He has stopped breathing. _

_His heart has stopped beating. _

_He was so tiny. She couldn't even hug his lifeless body close to her so she could try and feel his warmth. But what used to be warm has now turned cold. She called out his name - Alexander, after Troy's grandfather, but he could not hear her. He just laid there, so still and white. The doctor kept referring to him as an unborn fetus, but to her, he was Alexander. Even at eight weeks old, she had already started calling him by that name. She wasn't even sure of the sex of her baby but she knew - her baby was going to be a boy. He was Alexander - that she was sure of. And somehow, the more she called her baby of his name, the more that made him more real, more hers._

_He was not just an unborn fetus of at most two inches in length. He was a person. He was her son. Her Alexander. _

_And then it finally dawned on her that he simply was not there anymore. _

_Death._

_It just seemed so unreal. So far away. But the funny thing was, death was never a surprise. They say that every beginning has an end. That death - dying was inevitable. That it was all a part of a vicious cycle. Simply put, death was something everyone expected. You live. And you die._

_But as she stared at the picture of his now lifeless body, she thought about the tragedy of it all._

_How can you expect an end when life never even fully began?_

~.~.~

'Bitter and hardened heart  
>Aching waiting for life to start<br>Meet me in the morning when you wake up  
>Meet me in the morning then you'll wake up'<p>

_Bend and Break_, Keane

* * *

><p>Again, for reassurances, this is still very much a TG-story.<p>

That last scene was the only thing I had written for this story. I had ideas (tons of them) about how this story was going to play out. The plot changed quite a few times throughout the years but that very last scene when Gabriella found out she lost her child was the only thing that stayed the same.

I've never experienced anything like it so I hope I did the feelings of losing a child some justice.

Also, the first scene in italics happened _after _the scene with Gabriella and the doctor. Just in case it confused anyone.

Reviews are always appreciated.

Playlist: www. playlist. com/playlist/21667154699


	3. Soon

_AN:_ This author's note might be lengthy because I have to address quite a few things. If you're not interested in an explanation of sorts regarding the characterizations of Troy and Gabriella, feel free to skip this AN and go straight to the story, haha.

First off, sorry for being a few days late on posting this one. The last two weeks have been super crazy since its getting down to graduation. But I hope you enjoy MSS's last chapter.

In regards to some comments/emails I've gotten, it was never my intention to portray Gabriella or her actions as selfish. I do understand why it would seem that way but for me, as I was writing her, I tried to make it come across to the readers that after the miscarriage, Gabriella didn't know how to deal with losing her child. Instead of seeking comfort and grieving with Troy, she essentially just pushed every one away. In some cases, it's a gut reaction. For when you do get hurt, there are times where, in the desire to not get hurt in the future, you build up walls around yourself. Also, Gabriella never really got past the depression stage so that only compounded to what drove Troy away. I hope that shed some light into the characterization of my Gabriella in this story.

Also, as Holden so wonderfully put it, had Troy stayed, it would have still been a broken marriage. What I tried to show was the lack of communication between the two of them. Gabriella retreated within herself. Troy never really pushed hard enough to knock down the walls Gabriella built around her. They both made mistakes. The marriage didn't end because their child died. Their marriage ended because there was no communication.

Yes, Troy did have the intention to make it work with Gabriella when he came back to their house. However, these two haven't actually talked about their problems. Like I've mentioned, there was no communication between them. The only way they could move on was to talk about why their relationship ended the way it did. I tried to stress that there has been no contact ever since Troy moved and in the three years that passed, Troy and Gabriella never really did get the chance to explain themselves or have this healthy dialogue that discusses their problems. This is where Chapter 3 comes in…

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes or changes in tenses.

Enjoy.

_Disclaimer: _I own nothing.

* * *

><p><em>Gabriella's seen all about in movies, read about it in books she had read during highschool - that scene where the main character reached a point in his or her life where it gets too much. Like every reason for going on – for not giving up and just surrendering to the will of the powers-that-be, had been knocked right out of him or her. She'd been that character once, giving up and wallowing in her pain, pushing everyone who loved her away. She'd reached that point where she <em>did_ surrender and let the loneliness and grief consume her, driving even her husband away. _

_But there's also that scene, that moment where the main character feels this push, something that pulled him or her back into sanity – this surge of strength or faith that allowed you to keep from giving up. There's that one single moment before the breaking point, when you're at the edge of a precipice and you know that one step was all it took to irrevocably change it all. The point where you either walk away or stay and fight for what you want. Gabriella has had that moment too. After she gave up and threw away possibly the best thing that has happened to her, she – by luck or chance, was given another go at love. _

_That was the point where she stayed. And fought for her heart's desire. _

_It was pure chaos leading up to this moment, but wonderful, Gabriella thought to herself as she walked, one hand tightly gripping Jack's arm. She wondered why she was so nervous. She's done this before, she recalled, with more people staring at her too. _

_This time, there was no big hoopla. No elaborate and extravagant celebration like the last time. Hundreds of people were replaced with only a handful of individuals – the ones dearest to their heart, the ones that would always be there if push came to shove. There were no abundance of flowers or satins and tulle bows that adorn the seats. Instead of a small orchestra, Ryan and Kelsi provided the music. _

_This time, she didn't have a big dress, covered in lace and intricately adorned with pearls and crystals. _

_This time around, it was just him and her. And as she walked slowly in between the makeshift aisle in their backyard, she thought of how utterly wonderful it was, how utterly amazing he was._

_Troy. _

_She looked up and finally saw him. He stood earnestly before her, underneath the simple white arch. She glanced at his semi-casual attire, taking in how handsome he looked in a plain button-down shirt and a pair of khakis. Her eyes moved upward until she eventually met his gaze. _

_Gabriella paused at the edge of the platform, memorizing the sight of him in the waning light. She smiled at Troy's father, squeezing his arm in thanks. And then, she was taking several steps forward until she was by his side, where she was always meant to be. He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile right back. _

_The rest passed by in a blur for Gabriella, she spoke when required, answering questions asked and speaking promises. In a sense, the words mattered very little to her, she thought. What mattered to her, right here, right now, as the last of the sun's rays faded from the skies, was Troy looking at her with love in his eyes. Words weren't needed. Not when he looked at her like that – a man in love. It was a sight she'll treasure until the day she died. _

_She smiled at Troy and his mouth quirked to one side, smirking back at her when they heard the older man._

"… _and I now pronounce you man and wife."_

~.~.~

**Maybe, Someday Soon**

~.~.~

Head in his hands, Troy sat on the couch and stared at the fireplace. The sound of the crackling fire did not help to soothe his nerves as he had hoped. Plainly speaking, he was furious, and he doubted the feeling was going to go away anytime soon.

His meeting with Gabriella did not exactly go as he had planned. Not that he had much of a plan to begin with, but storming out and practically telling her to sign the divorce papers were definitely not it. He wondered how they got to this point, how they went from being completely in love to barely speaking to each other at all. Maybe that was their problem. After the miscarriage, communication between them all but existed.

He can't deny that he had missed her though. One look, just one look was all he needed and the memories from their past instantly came back to him, from the best to the worst ones. At some point, he heard his phone ringing but ignored it, instead focusing on his pain. Oh god, he thought to himself, was it normal to hurt this much?

Troy felt so damn lost and helpless. Would he ever feel normal? Feel happy again, he asked himself. A part of him had wished – hoped, even, that going on with the divorce proceedings could actually make it better. It was time to stop pretending that eventually, they'll get back together. It was time for him to start hoping that he'll get a second chance at life – maybe even one that didn't include her. After all, after three years, they were barely acquaintances. He didn't know what her life was like now. He didn't know where she was working. Truth be told, he knew nothing about her. In his head, he rationalized that the divorce was the next logical step to finally moving on. But the feelings he had for her remained after all these years. And he certainly did not expect to ache when the divorce papers were finally handed to him by his lawyer. Said lawyer also offered to hand deliver it to Gabriella but he balked at that thought of a stranger handing his wife (or soon-to-be ex-wife) those papers. So he said he would do it. He figured that on some level, he owed it to her to see if there was really nothing they could do before it was too late.

And judging by what happened back in their house less than hour ago, maybe getting a divorce was for the best. There's already too much hurt, too much pain festering between the two of them. Maybe what they needed was not a fresh start at starting over but a fresh start completely – but this time, separately. Heck, they've been doing it for so long now; it wouldn't have mattered either way.

But even as Troy justified it in his head, he knew that no matter what, she was _it_ for him. His forever and always.

~.~.~

"Chad, I just want to know where he's staying," Gabriella said exasperatedly. She had only been talking to Chad for less than a minute and she already had a headache coming on. She knew that she wasn't Chad's favorite person at the moment but she had no one else to call. Getting a hold of Troy's parents would have been a mistake. As much as they adored her while she was still married to their son, she doubted that they would be friendly towards her, especially after what happened. Ryan had been her first choice, knowing that the two still kept in contact even when their friend moved to New York with Kelsi after high school. Unfortunately for her, neither Ryan nor Kelsi knew where Troy was staying. Gabriella even contemplated trying to get a hold of Troy's office in hopes that he told him where he was staying but it was a Sunday.

Sighing, she finally made the call to Chad before what was left of her courage deserted her. Two minutes later, he was already biting her head off. Not that she could blame the guy.

Chad had been Troy's longest friend, ever since birth. They considered each other as brothers and after the miscarriage and the separation, Chad didn't take to kindly towards her. Again, not that she could blame him.

"Why?" he scoffed loudly. "So you can break his heart all over again. Isn't once enough?"

"Chad, please," she said, desperation seeping in her voice.

Chad, however, was having none of it. "Did you even know what you did to him? He did nothing wrong, Gabriella. All he ever did was love you. But that wasn't enough for you. He was a broken man when he got back here to Albuquerque."

At that, Gabriella erupted. "And you think I _wasn't_? I lost my son."

"_Your _son? What about him, Gabriella? Alexander was his son too. And the time that he needed you the most, you pushed him away."

Gabriella did not answer, knowing fully well that nothing she could say could refute the truth in his words. Both were silent for a long time, their breathing the only thing heard over the phone.

Then, Chad sighed and Gabriella could imagine him massaging his temples, a trait he always did when he was either annoyed or frustrated. "Fuck, Gabi. You and Troy were it, you know. Even back in high school, everyone knew you guys were it. But then he got back to Albuquerque a different man. And for the longest time, I hated you," he confessed, stressing the last words. "I hated you for hurting my best friend. My brother. I used to talk shit about you. And you know what Troy did, whenever I bad mouthed you, he got so angry at me. Even after everything, he still defended you."

A tiny flicker of hope flowed within her at hearing Chad's words but she immediately tried to suppress it, focusing instead on trying to find where Troy was. After he had left their house, she just sat there, crying by herself. She didn't know how long she sat and wallowed, hating herself for what happened between her and Troy. And not just with their latest fight but for everything that happened after the miscarriage. As the suffocating silence enveloped her, she realized how alone she felt. How just seeing him once was enough to rekindle the feelings she'd longed hoped had faded but didn't.

She can deny it all she wanted, until she's blue in the face but Troy Bolton was _it_ – he had been since they were just a couple of sixteen year olds. There will never be anyone for her but him. And in that moment of clarity, she realized that she had to do something, she owed it to him and herself to see if there was anything they can do to make it work between them. She knew it wouldn't be easy. But like her mother had always told her, life and love wasn't worth living unless she was willing to take a leap of faith. So after she pulled herself up from the hallway floor, she immediately grabbed her phone and dialed his number by heart. She was not surprised when he didn't answer. But that's okay, she told herself, as dialed Ryan's number. When that was also in vain, she found herself dialing Chad's number and here they were now, with him reproaching her for all that she'd done.

"Chad, I just really need to talk to him," Gabriella pleaded after his tirade.

"You certainly did a number on him. You're the one who completely broke him," Chad said, accusing her, before amending, "But you're also the only one who can fix him."

Gabriella opened her mouth to defend herself but he continued, "Don't make me regret giving you his hotel, Gabriella."

"He's been through too much already," Chad said before she heard the incessant dial tone, signaling that he has already hung up on her.

A moment later, her cellphone beeped. Grabbing it, she couldn't help but smile.

_Sir Francis Drake, Rm. 3264. Don't fuck it up – or else. _

~.~.~

"I need to talk to you," were the first words out of her mouth as soon as the hotel door opened. She was surprised that her voice sounded calm, composed when inside, she was trembling.

"I don't think there's anything left to say," he said, turning and walking away from her.

Gabriella pushed opened the door and hesitantly entered his hotel room. He sat dejectedly by the fireplace and for a moment, she didn't know if she should sit across from him. Deciding against the idea, she finally stood behind the couch opposite him, idly picking the strands of the throw pillow within her reach.

"What more do you want from me, Gabriella? Do you want to hear how I left you again?" Troy asked without once glancing her way. "I left you. There, you happy now?"

Her grip on the pillow tightened at hearing the pain laden in his voice. He sounded so wounded – so broken. His words did not have any bite to them, but more a plea, a sense of desperation that was trying to claw within her. Her heart ached knowing fully well that it was largely her fault that all this was happening.

She didn't know where to begin. How to start. Three years came and went, and as each day passed, the problems and issues that tore their marriage apart only grew. They lived their lives separately, making do and pretending that everything was fine, that they've moved on. But underneath the façade laid two people who were hurting, hoping to get by each day but not knowing how to even start.

"After it happened," Troy found himself saying, startling both himself and Gabriella, "after Alexander died, I never really knew what I was doing. I didn't know if I was doing the right thing by you. I didn't know how to react. I didn't know to move on. I didn't know if it was okay to start living my life again when my son just died."

He lifted his face and finally looked at her. "But you know what? At least I tried, Gabriella. _I tried_. You just… you just completely shut me down. Every. Single. Day."

Troy shook his head, staring back at the fireplace again. With a whisper, he asked, "Do you know how much that hurt?"

She held her breath, her now tear-filled eyes intently staring at him while holding back her sobs. "Troy, I'm sor-"

"Don't," he bit out. "I don't want to hear your apologies. I just want to move on, find some sort of resolution, some closure. Because all this nothing, it _hurts_, Gabriella. And I desperately want to start living again. With or without you. I just," his voice rasped, "I just want to be happy again, Gabi."

"I, um -" Her breath caught, and she paused to steady her voice. Taking a breath, she tried again, "Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant?"

Troy remembered the day vividly like it was yesterday. He had just come home from work and all he wanted to do was sink into the couch with one hand on the remote and a beer in another. He called out to her, telling her he was home. And from their bedroom, she shouted, _"Dinner's in the oven. Do you mind checking it?" _

He recalled turning the television on as he passed by the family den, the sounds of ESPN filling in the silence. He opened the oven and was perplexed at what the dinner she was talking about. Seeing the commercial play, he closed the oven door and made his way into the bedroom and started changing. Seeing her shadow from the bathroom curtain, he said, "_Babe, it's just a bun in the oven._"

Her head peered from the bathroom door and she smiled brilliantly at him. "_Yeah, just a bun in the oven._"

Tugging his socks off, he stared at her quizzically. "_You're in a good mood._"

"_You would be too_," the twenty-three year old Gabriella replied, "_It's a pretty amazing bun. In the oven."_

"_Please tell me we're having more than just a bun because I'm starving babe. And a bun just -"_

She could tell when he finally figured it out. His blue eyes widened and immediately watered. "_Bun in the oven? Are not – I mean, you're not – you're pregnant?" _

A nod was the only thing she could do before he ran up to her and kissed her senseless. Troy recalled that memory well. It wasn't something that was easily forgotten. Pushing erect, he turned to her and watched as she trembled in her spot a few feet away behind the hotel couch. Her arms locked around her, shoulders hunched. He resisted the urge to comfort her.

"I was so scared to tell you that I was pregnant back then," Gabriella went on shakily. "We had just gotten married. Our careers were barely taking off. We had student loans to pay. Mortgages and bills. And it scared the shit out of me. And when I finally told you… you were so happy. No hesitation. No fear. Just… just pure happiness."

She turned away from Troy, shame bright in her hazel eyes. "I never told anyone this but when I saw that two lines in that pregnancy stick, I wasn't even happy. I was so damn scared," then she added hastily, "Not because I didn't think you'd be happy but because, I didn't think _I_ was ready for it. I didn't want to be pregnant. I didn't know how to be a mother, not when I didn't have a mother myself. I didn't know how I could take care of someone else."

Barely a whisper, she continued, "The first thought that came in my mind was, I didn't want it. After the miscarriage, I couldn't look you. I couldn't even look at myself." Sobs now raked her body until she crumpled down the floor, sliding against the back of the couch. Troy appeared in front of her, trying to bring her into this embrace.

"Don't," she practically shouted, pushing him away. "You see, it was my fault. Alexander died because of me. He knew, Troy. Our baby knew. Alexander knew I didn't want him."

"But you did," Troy uttered softy but with much conviction. Sitting beside her, he gently brushed her tears away. "You might have second-guessed yourself - you panicked for a second. But I saw you then. There was nothing forced about how happy you were. You already loved that kid. You were already making plans for him. What preschool we should pick. How to baby-proof the house. You _wanted_ Alexander as much as I did. Our baby knew that he had loving parents. Don't doubt, even for a second, that he knew you loved him. Because you did."

"And it didn't matter that your mom was already gone. You would have been an amazing mother – and Maria would have been proud of you."

She glanced at him, then back into her hands, folded into her lap. "I'm sorry," Gabriella faintly stated. If Troy was sitting but a few feet away, he doubted he could have heard her. "I should have been there for you. I should have grieved with you. I should never have pushed you away. Can – do you think you could ever forgive me?"

Grasping her chin, he delicately forced her to look at him. He smiled, hoping that it somehow assured her. "I can if you can forgive me for leaving you."

Her grimace slowly turned into a rueful smile. "You got yourself a deal, Bolton."

They sat on the ground for a long time, barely speaking. The silence helped healed the wounds from three years past. The neglect and the pain, the heartache and anguish, the walls they built around themselves that cultivated inside during the years they were apart slowly crumbled away.

"I still hear it, you know," Gabriella voiced, misery in her tone – but this time, there was a hint of hope, of recovery. "His heartbeat, I mean. I don't think I'll ever be able to _unhear_ it."

Troy gathered her in his arms and this time, she didn't fight back. "There is a universe out there, where the three of us - you, me and Alexander - are together and happy," he stated.

"You think so?" she asked as she gazed up at him.

He beamed and Troy knew that they finally got their closure. It might have taken them three long years but they are finally on their road to recovery – and this time, together. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he fervently said, "I know so."

His told was mild, but the intensity of his gaze told Gabriella all she needed to know.

~.~.~

The room was quiet now, except for their soft breathing. Sometime in the afternoon, they found themselves lying on the hotel couch that was too small to hold two people; legs jumbled together, bodies pressed against each other.

"Why did you move back to Albuquerque?" she asked, breaking the silence. "Even after you moved out, I didn't really think that you'll permanently leave. You stayed in San Francisco for close to six months and then boom, you were gone."

"Because it hurt too much," was his brutally honest response. "I couldn't move on from you; so I just moved."

Moving slightly away, she positioned herself on top of him and relaxed within his arms. "And have you? Moved on, I mean?" Her cheeks reddened and she looked back down on his chest instead. "Is that why you came back after three years with divorce papers in tow?"

Idly, he traced patterns on her back where her shirt had ridden up. Truthfully, he began, "I see pieces of you everywhere. I left San Francisco because I couldn't deal with being in the same place as you. I thought being in Albuquerque could help, you know. I think, at times, it just made it worst."

His other hand – the one not wreaking havoc in her back, caressed her cheek. "Sometimes, missing you comes out of nowhere and it just stops me in my tracks. A smell, a touch, a memory. It makes it really, really hard to breathe, Gabi. We haven't had contact for such a long time. It was pathetic really. Three years and I swore I was over you – at least that's what I kept telling myself. But seeing you yesterday, I guess I wasn't. I thought maybe, if we finally made things final with the divorce, I could possibly start to move on." She felt him shrug his shoulders, "I guess I was just kidding myself."

Softly, she rubbed her cheek against his skin before Gabriella placed a light kiss upon his neck. "I still sleep on the left side of bed. Even after three years, I just couldn't bring myself to sleep in the middle."

The movement of his hand behind her back stopped for a second before it resumed. Then she continued with her own confession, "I miss the post-its you left everywhere for me to find."

At that he laughed. "I have drawer filled with notes to you I knew you'll never read. But I just couldn't resist writing whatever it is down."

"The forehead kisses," she whispered, a blush staining her cheeks. "That's one of the things I miss the most."

A surge of emotion swept through him. As Troy stared at the woman in his arms, and he realized how lucky he was at his moment. Something inside him called out to her – only her. It was irresistible and he wondered how they spent so many years apart when all he wanted to do was be with her, hold her, love her. Troy cupped her cheek with his free hand and then kissed her forehead. "I missed it too."

"You know that promise of yours?" her breathy voice asked, "Forever and always?"

A flash of pain crossed his eyes. But he nodded.

"Do you think, maybe, we could still have that?"

His love was her was furious in its intensity, and an overwhelming desire to just cherish her forever crashed through him. Grasping her gently, he slightly pulled away to stare deep into her hazel eyes. Their breathing ragged in the stillness, which only lent the illusion of the world fading away and all that left was the two of them.

"Maybe. Someday. Soon. We just have to take it day by day." He answered.

"What if -"

Lowering his head, he brushed a kiss along her jaw. "You trusted me to take care of you when we were just sixteen. His hands slowly worked the buttons of her shirt, as he trailed kissed down her neck. "Trust me now," he whispered, his mouth only a few inches away for her lips, "when I say that we'll be okay."

His whispered words sent a surge of desire through her. She heard the truth in his voice, the feel of his conviction in his touch as his grip on her tightened. Gabriella snuggled closer to him, and for the first time in three years, allowed herself to imagine a future with him – one that consisted of forever and always.

~.~.~

"_We're ready for you now, miss."_

_Nodding at the older lady, she eased out of the chair and playfully rolled her eyes when a hand extended towards her. She smiled up at him, accepting his help as she stood up and moved into tiny bed. A moment later, an elderly man entered the room, greeting the both of them. Once the pleasantries were out of the way, he started asking the usual questions. She was too nervous – or maybe it was too much excitement, but either way, he ended up answering the doctor for her. _

_The procedure was all very routine to her and soon, it was a blur, until she felt a slight tinge of coldness settle over her bare stomach. The doctor was still speaking but she just ignored him, concentrating. Gabriella closed her eyes for a second, and that's when she heard it. A heartbeat._

_Her daughter's heartbeat. _

_Her eyes immediately sought out her husband, unconsciously tightening her hold on his hand, squeezing it as if it became her lifeline. She didn't even realize that she'd been crying until he brushed the tears away, replacing his fingers with his mouth, and giving her soft kisses. They did not notice when the doctor left to give them more privacy, too wrapped up in each other and the life they created together. _

_After the excitement settled down, she placed both their hands over the gentle swell of her stomach. "Hello there, little one," she murmured. "Your daddy and I cannot wait until we finally meet you."_

_Beside her, Troy smiled before giving her tummy a gentle kiss. Then, a small flutter came from under her skin – a gentle kick, and both of them gasped softly. _

"_I love you, baby girl," her husband whispered affectionately into her stomach. Standing upright, he looked at her, "And I love you. I really, really love you, Gabriella Bolton." _

_Gabriella beamed but said nothing in response because at this perfect moment, words had completely abandoned her. She reached for him, holding on tightly for fear that it would all fade away. Like always, he understood, tightening his hold on the two of them, murmuring soft nothings in her ear and assuring her that finally, after all obstacles they've been through, this was their moment – the three of them and the future that lay before them. This was their second chance at happiness._

_Caressing her cheek, Troy smiled comfortingly at her. He then rested his forehead against her, "No more tears, Gabi. We've wasted too much time wallowing already."_

"_I love you and our child more than anything in this world. Forever," she swore._

_Looking deeply into her hazel eyes, with one had idly stroking her head and the other placed atop her stomach, he avowed, "Always."_

~.~.~

'Why would I want to see you now?  
>To fix it up, make it up somehow<p>

Baby I'll try again, try again  
>Baby I die every night, every time<p>

What I was isn't what I am  
>I'd change back but I don't know if I can<p>

But I was made the way I am  
>I'm not a stone; I'm just a man<br>Lay down your arms and I will lay down mine  
>Rip back the time that we've been wasting<p>

God I wish you could see me now  
>You'd pick me up and you'd sort me out<p>

Still I'll try, try again, try again'

_Try Again,_ Keane

* * *

><p>Yes, the scenes in italics are a flash forward (future scenes, an epilogue of sorts) this time and not a flash back. Just in case it was confusing for anyone.<p>

I hope you enjoyed this little story of mine.

Reviews are very much appreciated.

Link to _Maybe, Someday Soon's _playlist found at www. playlist. com/playlist/21667154699

Oh, and one last thing, I'm currently starting another 3-chapter story that will accompany _Maybe, Someday Soon_. It's a prequel/sequel-ish story to this one – and that's the best description I could come up with without giving too much away, although the synopsis will certainly give you enough clues, haha. So look out for the tentatively titled _Falling Apart. _I'm graduating college in less than three weeks and trying to find a job so it might not be posted until late June/early July but the writing bug has definitely bit me so _Falling Apart_ is a definite go.

_Synopsis_: Memories are wonderful things - if you don't have to deal with the consequences of the past. For Troy Bolton, running away was his only option. But what if he gets a second chance with the one that got away? A continuation of sorts to _Maybe, Someday Soon_.


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